Consider the Thought
by wastesotoxic
Summary: France needs a new smile and America supplies.  FrUs, with others


"You don't have to worry about your teeth, pretty boy. I've got dentists that can give you back that million dollar smile of yours right quick. Long as you've got the money, of course."

France was too preoccupied with examining his teeth in the mirror to pay much attention to what America was saying. There were three gaps where perfect molars once were, with a few chips here and there. "It doesn't look good." France said carefully, cursing inwardly at the lisp his missing teeth caused him. "It doesn't look good at all."

"Damn right it doesn't look good. You look like a hillbilly with all those missing teeth."

"So says the uncultured America. Come, would you like a few gaps in your mouth as well?"

"Hey buddy, you definitely aren't the one to be picking fights right now. What with your losing streak as of late." At this America beamed, leaning back in his chair, his Nantucket ruffled by the movement. "By the way, you still haven't answered my question."

France ran a finger across his jagged teeth, feeling the need for a few more seconds of mortification before turning to America. In his eyes, the edges of America blurred and blended together lightly. France attempted to focus his eyes, to send away the fuzzy vision, before continuing. "I think I may have drunk too much." He vaguely recalled downing glasses of whatever it was some pretty boy had been buying him. What else had happened after that…? "I cannot recall your question, America."

"How'd you end up in a barfight?" America's eyes glinted with mischievousness. "It's been a while since you've started any shit; I just wanted to know if it was anything serious." _And maybe I could get in on it, _America's voice implied.

"Ah, little America, always vying for a good fight, no?" Struggling to laugh, Francis took a chair nearby America. France continued to run his tongue around his teeth, the spaces feeling strange to him. "I cannot recall how or why I was in the fight." Massaging his jaw, France added, a tad weary : "I only recall being outnumbered by several burly fellows. Though I wonder."

"What a lame ass story." America decided, eyeing the older man with a mixture of disappointment and amusement. "Bet you got in a fight over some piece of ass."

". . ."

"Are you serious?"

"That seems the most likely scenario."

France let out a back breaking sigh at America's burst of laughter. Edges continuing to blur and blend, France decided to satisfy himself with seeing a world of poor details after a while. There was a light pounding at the base of his skull, and France wondered of America's reaction should he ask to spend the night.

" You alright? Your eyes are kinda rolling in the back of your head." His voice was softer, which surprised France. "Man, they really did fuck you up, huh?" The America shaped blob moved out of his chair, the lines of America's face coming back into focus as he came closer to the Frenchman.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" France asked which brought a look of confusion across America's face.

"I'm not doing anything, and don't talk to me in your weirdo language okay? It's only alright if it's Mattie talking it." America chided, poking France in the shoulder. "Get up, we got to get you to a bed."

"Carry me."

"No."

"Carry me. I can not walk up those stairs alone, America." France gave a small, what seemed sheepish smile. America knew him well enough to know that was the smile of a wolf. He stuck his tongue out at France's request, stepping back to give France room to stand.

"How many people have fallen for that, I wonder?"

"Millions."

"Ick, you and England both probably have AIDs or something."

Chuckling, France pulled himself out of the chair, stumbling as he did so. "Luckily, little America, our kind cannot procure venereal diseases."

"Whatever, that's no excuse for being a nasty bastard." Despite being a Nation with freedom of religion, America did have those deep rooted Puritan values that still persist to influence him. How nice it would be, France thought, to see America act like a slut for once.

France followed America through a maze of hallways, frowning when it appeared they had went in a circle. He almost made a comment, but America seemed to know where he was going, so France simply staggered after him in silence.

"Canada was supposed to be here this weekend." America chattered as they stopped _finally _in front of a door. "Which is too bad, because I'm sure he would have gotten a kick out of seeing you with your newly fucked up teeth." Another smile that could rival the stars and France felt a strange bout of affection for the boy. "Course we'll get that fixed up later." He pattered France on the shoulder. "As funny as it is, I prefer that superficial perfect smile of yours. It's comforting."

"My, such harsh words." France found he didn't want to go in yet. "From you. You who gives smiles to people you've never met before, even openly dislike." France hadn't yet forgotten of the Cold War, where Russia and America would give each other smiles that could chill the atmosphere.

"That's being nice! They are 'hey, nice to meet you' smiles, not 'your place or mine?' smiles!"

Shutting his eyes, France leaned against America, which quieted the younger nation for a few moments. America smelled of warmth and—flowers, a mixture of sunflowers, roses, and tulips. "Why do you talk so much? It is so tiring."

"What are you doing?" America asked softly, and France was yet again surprised at how quickly America could change emotion. It was odd to think that America might even care. "France."

"Do you think that no one knows?" Testing the waters, France pressed his face into America's shoulder. "You make your affections for that maniac so obvious, you know. It is painful to watch, considering he'll never return your feelings."

"Like you and England." America snipped back, pushing France away from him.

"Yes." France wasn't afraid to admit anything to America. "However, I refuse to let myself dry up waiting for what will never happen." The colors were blending worse now, his vision was faltering, but those sky blue eyes stood out strong for France. Such brilliant color—France found his eyes of the dying noon could never quite compete with it. Not that he would ever admit such a thing.

Pulling open the bedroom door with undisguised disdain, America gestured. "Go to bed before I hit you." His voice sounded languid, no _wonder _America was such a great liar.

"Think about what I've said." France said, not having the strength to pursue America. Another time, perhaps. "You will, won't you Alfred?" The human names were rarely used between the nations, America was surprised to hear his own. With a tight lipped smile, America nodded.

"I always think about what you've said, Francis."

"What a little liar, but thank you for saying as such." And before America can voice opposition, he kissed him on the cheek, stubble brushing against the soft skin. "It warms my heart."

America watched as France wobbled to the bed and collapsed into the comforters. Slowly, he shut the door to France's room and walked away, trying to press images of a certain violet eyed individual out of his mind.

In the morning France found a bundle of roses next to his bed. Next to them was a note, complete with hurried handwriting.

_2516 Wilson St, Dr Henderson. Awesome dentist that'll fix you right up. Your appointment is at noon, so don't be all dickish and late,kay? _

_Thought about what you said and decided that you were right, can't leave myself all dried up. For once you actually make sense. I actually feel better. _

_Maybe you should swing by more often instead of having me find you getting your ass kicked._

_It'd be kind of nice._

Studying the letter, France let out a small breath and smiled.

* * *

AUTHOR NOTE: I'm so scared. I'm staying in a hotel [which thank the lord has internet] all…ALONE. D: My debate class has taken an overnight trip and the girl I'm sharing the room with hasn't come back yet. Decided to type this up to pass the time! isfilledwithDEMONS. No, I haven't forgotten about my other stories, the minute I return to my warm and fuzzy home I will update stuff. :D Ah, this hotel is so big and scary. ;_; I got lost in the upstair floors in my pajamas and some guy was like "Are you okay little girl?" He thought I was a kid. :D Which Is loltastic with my huge boobs and all. He helped me find my way back though, which was super cool of him. …I seriously am concerned about where my roommate is. Anyway, I hope you all like this and good night to you all. Maybe you'll get some sleep, but I won't. Not in this hotel. D:


End file.
